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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27581183">Jello</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Stranger Things (TV 2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Established Relationship, Frottage, Gay, Gay Sex, Horny, M/M, Plot What Plot, Smut, Steve is kinda an asshole, Study date gone... wrong?, or very right, this is so gay</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 22:08:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,200</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27581183</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“How’s writing goin’ for you, Napoleon?” And yeah, that’s like. A reference to whatever Billy told him he should really try to work on. Billy really shouldn’t expect shit when he asks stuff of him when his hand is tangled in Steve's hair at the same time.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>118</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Jello</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>More smut! Holy Jello (as a wise person always says ((cough hi bailey cough)). </p><p>Enjoy.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He’s meant to be writing an essay on the consequences of the French Revolution. Or some shit. He wasn’t really listening when they got the assignment. </p><p> </p><p>Billy’s staring at him like he’s getting away with it. Book hiding his mouth, tongue. Steve hides a little behind his crumpled paper. Plays along with the game. Looks up to catch Billy in the act, looks away before Billy can catch him and what he knows is his completely, totally in love face. </p><p> </p><p>“How’s writing goin’ for you, Napoleon?” And yeah, that’s like. A reference to whatever Billy told him he should <em> really </em> try to work on. Billy really shouldn’t expect shit when he asks stuff of him when his hand is tangled in Steve's hair at the same time. </p><p> </p><p>Billy cares, though. About school shit. Is damn good at it. He cares about Steve. <em> Care about you so much it makes me crazy. </em>Steve feels crazy, too hot and too all over to focus on bullshit. </p><p> </p><p>He’s got a boyfriend and he’s sitting across from him on the couch, back digging into the arm seat, toes curled like he’s a little cold. It’s fucking. Cute. He has a boyfriend, and that kinda overshadows his ninety year old  history teacher droning on about his last chance to save his grade. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m done.” </p><p> </p><p>“<em>Why</em> do I feel like you’re lying to me.” </p><p> </p><p>“I’m done with it. You can like, keep being a nerd. I’m gonna go to my room.” It’s <em> so </em> an invitation, Steve reaching out to grab Billy's hand before he’s even done talking. </p><p> </p><p>“You think you’re so-“ Steve pulls him up by his hands, tugs him close, cuts Billy right off. Squeezes his fingers, pushes close. </p><p> </p><p>“I think I’m what?” He murmurs it into Billy’s space, smiles all slow at the way Billy’s eyes are trained on his lips. </p><p> </p><p>“Hot shit.” Billy’s breathless, untangling one hand to get it into Steve's hair.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>You </em> think I’m hot shit.” </p><p> </p><p>Billy shoves at him, laughs a little like they’re both not thinking about the time Billy gasped out how hot he gets for Steve’s king shit on the phone.</p><p> </p><p>Steve trips up the stairs with Billy panting down his neck, laughs when Billy shoves a hand up the back of his sweater. </p><p> </p><p>They make it to his room, Billy shutting the door by pressing Steve into it. Sweat makes Steve’s shirt stick to Steve’s back, Billy pressed against his chest. He can feel Billy move with every inhale, exhale. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey.” Billy’s all syrup, leans in even closer, breath fanning Steve's face. </p><p> </p><p>“Hi.” </p><p> </p><p>“You,” he presses a kiss to the side of Steve's exposed neck. “didn’t finish shit.” </p><p> </p><p>Steve groans, thumps his head against the door. Shakes his head when Billy laughs at him. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re such a nerd.” </p><p> </p><p>“Who the fuck you calling a nerd, pretty boy?” Billys laughing with it, frowning like he’s not rubbing circles into the skin right above Steve's hip. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, no one special.” He looks down, just enough, uses his two inches to channel that <em>king Steve shit</em>. It’s a game they keep playing, all bark and just enough bite. </p><p> </p><p>“No one special? That’s how it’s gonna be, huh?” </p><p> </p><p>Billys laughing in that way Steve won’t ever get enough of, shoving at Steve’s shoulder, roughing him up all soft. Messing around. Spins Steve around until he’s grasping for leverage, makes them both tumble down on his unmade bed. </p><p> </p><p>Billy cages him in, crawls over him. His hair falls in Steve's face, makes his nose scrunch up. </p><p> </p><p>“I guess,” teeth graze his throat, old marks. Steve cranes his neck, throws his head to the side.“no one special, could do this?”</p><p> </p><p>Billys licking his throat, too sloppy to count as kissing, at this point. Lets his canines catch at Steve's adam’s apple. </p><p> </p><p>“You'd let anyone mark you up like this?” He sucks a mark into his skin then, at the base of his throat. Steves gasping, arching into it. </p><p> </p><p>“Billy, you <em> know </em> it’s only you.” </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah? My name the only one you moan out like that?” He’s such a fucking asshole, sounding smug as fuck, pressed so close, moving his hips just enough to drive Steve up the wall. </p><p> </p><p>“Shut up, you’re such an asshole.”</p><p> </p><p>“You love me.” And yeah, he does. Loves Billy so much it’s crazy, and it makes him laugh a little. It sounds kinda hysterical. </p><p> </p><p>“You talk too much.”</p><p> </p><p>“What’re you gonna do about it, baby?” It’s a challenge, blue eyes glinting, tongue running across sharp teeth. <em> It’s on.  </em></p><p> </p><p>“Shut <em> up </em>.” Steve gets his hands in Billy’s hair, pushes his head down like an asshole. Billy moans with it, goes down so willingly. Works Steve’s jeans open, Steve jerking his hips up so he can shove them down his thighs. Billy doesn’t move his head though - can’t, with the way Steve’s twisting his curls, gets Steve's dick in his face for a second, makes him feel so fucking hot all over. </p><p> </p><p>Billy licks him through his briefs, inhales like he’s choking on it. Steve has to let go of Billy for a too long second to hoist himself up on his elbow, craning his need to catch Billy's eyes. He feels like they’re lighting him on fire, those eyes. </p><p> </p><p>Billy winks up at him, like he’s not the one at Steve’s feet, blows hot air on his hardon. Steves panting like a dog, Billy's name on his tongue. </p><p> </p><p>“Shit, baby, don’t tease.” </p><p> </p><p>“What’s in it for me?” Billys talking all languidly, like he’s not rubbing his cheek against Steve’s dick, licking the vein with a sharp tip of a tongue. Steve’s tearing apart at the seams. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re choking for me, I know you want it, come on-“</p><p> </p><p>Billy snaps the waistband of his briefs against his stomach, shuts him up. Grazes his teeth against the jut of his hip bone, laves his tongue across Steve's happy trail. Pulls at his underwear with his damn teeth. Steve has to close his fucking eyes. </p><p> </p><p>Billy wraps his lips around him finally, and Steve feels like he’s been hit in the gut. Toes curling into the mattress, throat bared, and Billy’s barely got the leaking head of his dick past his lips. </p><p> </p><p>Billy curls a hand around his thigh, spreads Steve's legs even more. It’s heady, Billy gripping him like he needs to hold on to something to stay there, needs to hold onto Steve. </p><p> </p><p>Billy keeps up with his fucking teasing, moved down to mouth his balls, free hand loosely wrapped around Steves dick, too loose for the way his hips jerk into it to do shit. </p><p> </p><p>“Billy, <em> please </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“Please what?”</p><p> </p><p>“Just- come on, I gotta- gotta come, <em> baby </em>, please.” </p><p> </p><p>“You’re begging like you’re the one on your knees, baby. Come on, take what you need.” </p><p> </p><p>Billy opens his mouth, lets his tongue lie flat on the underside of Steve's dick, and he’s so hard he thinks he might die. </p><p> </p><p>Steve reaches for Billy’s hair again, plants his feet so he can fuck billys throat. He’s gentle, lazy. And Steve’s losing his mind, comes so hard from the way Billy’s throat works around his dick, from the way Billy’s moaning around him. </p><p> </p><p>He’s gasping out Billy's name, forces his eyes to stay open to see the way Billy chokes on his load. He can feel saliva and come spilling, dripping onto his skin. It’s gross. He might actually black out. </p><p> </p><p>“Shit. Fuck. Come here, Billy.” </p><p> </p><p>Billy’s on him in seconds, jeans pushed down enough for Steve to get his hand around his dick. He’s so hot, dripping all over Steve's stomach and rucked up shirt, panting into Steve's mouth. He can taste <em> himself </em> on his breath, licks into his mouth for more. Billy doesn’t kiss back, can’t, let’s Steve lick his teeth, his lower lip, while he jerks him off too dry. </p><p> </p><p>“Come on me, fuck.” Steve doesn’t know what he’s saying, doesn’t know if it’s coherent. Feels the rush of want and need and <em>can’t ever get enough</em> like a fever, body tingling. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, yeah. Gonna make you mine, gonna come-“ </p><p> </p><p>“<em> Please </em>.” </p><p> </p><p>Billy moans with it, spills over Steve's knuckles and onto his heaving stomach, heat hitting Steve like- it’s too much. He loves it, the way Billy’s kinda obsessed with marking him up like that. <em> Needs </em> it. </p><p> </p><p>Billy collapses onto him, sticks to him and the drying come between them. </p><p> </p><p>“Holy <em> shit </em>, Steve.” </p><p> </p><p>“<em> Yeah </em>.” </p><p> </p><p>“Thank you.” Billy's quiet, looks so open, for a second. Looks- so in love. </p><p> </p><p>“Are you kidding me? Thank <em> you </em>, holy shit. I can’t move my legs.” </p><p> </p><p>Billy huffs out a laugh, noses at Steve's collarbone. Licks some sweat there, presses a kiss onto hot skin. Steve spreads both his hands across Billy's back, feels some sort of need to cover him up with his own body. </p><p> </p><p>They kick off their tangled up jeans and underwear, shirts too. They couldn’t even get their damn clothes off, and that’s. Kinda what he lives for. The way they’re tangled up in each other, still. He’s crazy with it. </p><p> </p><p>Billy pulls at him until Steve rests his head on his chest, Billy's fingers carding through his hair. He’s ready to pass the fuck out, nestles closer. Throws his leg over Billy’s, bites at his pec when Billy squirms away from Steve's leg hair tickling his thigh. </p><p> </p><p>“Our study dates are completely fucking useless.” Billy breaks the silence, tugs at Steve’s hair when he says it. <em> Pulling his pigtails.  </em></p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know man, I just got my dick sucked pretty hard so-.”</p><p> </p><p>“Shut the fuck up, I’m supposed to help you with your shit.” Billy laughs with him though, cranes his head back to catch his eye. Winks like that. Steve leans close to kiss his stupid mouth, closes his eyes. </p><p> </p><p>“I appreciate the thought. I have time though, and this is <em> so </em>, so much better.” He’s whispering, ‘cause anything else feels too loud. Like they’re hiding under a blanket or something. Sealed away. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, can’t argue.” Billy kisses him again, soft. Tongue tracing his already swollen lip. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey, you hungry? I can make us something. Don’t even know the time, shoot.” His own rumbling stomach fucks up their pocket dimension, makes him stretch to try to see the display of his alarm clock. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re a terrible host, baby.” Steve pinches Billy's arm, gets a kick in the shin back. He can’t really stop smiling. Maybe it’s the orgasm, or something. Maybe it’s just Billy fucking Hargrove. </p><p> </p><p>“I’ll make grilled cheese to make up for it?” </p><p> </p><p>“I mean, doin’ something like that time you fucked me in the bathtub is more my style-“ Billy's smiling like the devil, tongue caught between his teeth, and Steve rolls his eyes like his dick didn’t give a kick against Billy's hip. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re ridiculous, come <em> on </em>.” </p><p> </p><p>Steve heaves himself off him, scratches at the drieds come, ignores the way Billy rolls over and groans into his pillow. </p><p> </p><p>He grabs a pair of underwear hanging from the side of the bed, realizes it’s Billy’s, still sticky with precome. He puts them on, feels some weird should-be-gross sense of possession. Gets fucking. Butterflies in his stomach, from wearing his boyfriends ruined underwear. </p><p> </p><p>He gets up, has to balance himself on the bed for a second, legs jello and brain mushed up. </p><p> </p><p>The bed frame protests against billy sitting up, and there’s a gasp, a holy fuck muttered under Bbilly’s breath, and Steve feels like <em> King Steve </em>, in the best, non-fucked up way. </p><p> </p><p>“<em> Steve </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“Come on, I’m starving.” He turns around, so Bbilly can see the way his dried come disappears underneath <em> Billy’s </em> briefs, smiles all crooked when Billy rubs his hands across his face, groaning. </p><p> </p><p>“Me too, god.” Billys looking right at him, and Steve knows what kinda starved Billy is. Wants to crawl over and on him, fill him up. He finds a pair of sweatpants in his drawer instead. </p><p> </p><p>“I’ll whip something up, come on. There’s beer left in the fridge, too.” </p><p> </p><p>Billy listens, for once, finds Steve's briefs somewhere by the bed, puts them on. Stares Steve down as he rubs himself through the cotton like a- dick.</p><p> </p><p>Steve throws a spare pair of basketball shorts at Billy, the ones he’s got in the drawer he kinda named <em>Billy’s</em>. </p><p> </p><p>Billy tries to pin him up against the wall right by the staircase. Leans in for a kiss. Steals two more, hands cradling Ssteve’s jaw. Fingers finding a pressure point, pressing in. So gentle. Steve wants to stay here, wall holding him up, Billy leaning on him, forever. Closes his eyes with it. Feels Billy lean in closer, touch his lips to his left eyelid. He’s so fucking in love. </p><p> </p><p>“Want you so bad.” Billy whispers it against his cheek, rolls his hips against Ssteve’s all smooth. Steve kinda deserves a medal for the way he manages to push Billy back with a palm splayed across his heart. </p><p> </p><p>“We’ve got time, cowboy. You’re staying, right?” and Billy smiles, soft and private and like he’s thinking about things they haven’t talked about yet ‘cause they’re <em>young</em> and it’s Indiana and California is so far away. Looks down at the soft carpet for a second. Looks right at Steve. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I- yeah. I’m staying.”</p><p> </p>
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